


To Carry Me Home

by Zatnikatel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 15:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zatnikatel/pseuds/Zatnikatel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Spoilers</b> None<br/><b>Warnings</b> Angst up the wazoo</p>
    </blockquote>





	To Carry Me Home

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers** None  
>  **Warnings** Angst up the wazoo

There's this old guy in the second room from the end, well not old, sixties maybe. He sits in a chair in his room most days, because he's violent. That's what the other nurses say, though she hasn't seen him do anything and he just winks at her when she gives him his antipsychotics, swallowing them down nice as pie.

Sometimes he talks to her while she changes his catheter, rambles on about crazy stuff, ghosts, demons, vampires. _Angels_.

She listens to his stories, and she is careful in her care of him, and sometimes she thinks she can see the man he must have been in the way his green eyes gleam and dance at her before his meds take hold and they turn dull.

One day there's a young guy sitting on the chair by his bed. Mid-thirties, a mess of dark hair, piercing blue eyes. He is coldly aloof, but when the old man in the bed stirs awake and sees the visitor, his eyes go wide. For a moment his expression is disbelief and then the lines on his face soften, and his mouth curls into a smile that proves he was beautiful once. And then he slumps back, his head lolling and his eyes rolling back in his head.

She is reaching for the alarm button when the younger man stills her, his hand on her arm.

"Let him go," he says, whisper-quiet, and he doesn't blink. "Please."

After her shift, she waits outside for her bus. It's dark, and snowflakes are wafting down, cold onto her skin.

"Thank you," a voice says out of nowhere.

She jumps, twists around.

He is already walking away, straight and tall, broad-shouldered, heading for the dark-haired man where he waits further up the street, hand reaching out.

But he turns and he winks at her, green eyes gleaming, and she sees the man he was.


End file.
